Armored Saint

Up Yours

Armored Saint

Win Hands Down


A kiss new year's eve is a gesture of hope
A kiss goodbye gives a lump in the throat
One inspires, the other puts out fires
(A love for kissing feet makes him a weirdo)
You kissing my ass makes you a big joke
Not so funny, nothing to laugh about

No more what ifs, no more what ifs
Wait man, hey man, hold on
No more what ifs, no more what ifs
What if I'm obligated to keep you
I'll grit my teeth and sweep you
Under the rug, uh!

A stroll in the park can be a moment of zen
But you lurking in the dark begging to be my friend
Can really rub, rubs me the wrong way
Following my tracks is what you do
Although, I never remember ever giving a clue
Or a hint, or a blatant come with me


No more what ifs, no more what ifs
No more, no more, no more
No more what ifs, no more what ifs
No more entry to your ravaged mind
I'll break the mold one of a kind
But you say I'm

Sincerely, up yours
Positively, up yours
Gotta fake it to the right and take a detour
Yeah, you say I'm deep and truly, up yours
Exclusively, up yours
Finding you hard so hard to ignore
That's for sure, sure as shit, that's it
Firmly planted up yours

Seems to be
It's a chain link in our minds, some parallel to our lives
I'm being followed by a sky scanner
With old NASA parts from some black market dealer
In your grade school science project you're trying to revive

Seems to be a delusion of grandeur
A twisted fucked up matter
A distorted sense of wrong and right (And that ain't right)
Got your app with the police scanner
Mapped out daily planner
And the Krav Maga trainer in case of a fight
No, yeah, yeah
Ooh!

It's time to turn the tables on you
and get the hell out of dodge
Not a moment too soon
Gotta flee, gotta drain the tank empty
This ugly bond is debatable, obviously dysfunctional
Although I do admire your stalking abilities

No more what ifs, no more what ifs
No more, no more, no more
No more what ifs, no more what ifs
No more entry to your ravaged mind
I'll break the mold one of a kind
But you say I'm

Up yours
Up yours
Up yours
Up yours
Up yours
Up yours
Up yours
Forcing me to say
You can shove it right up yours
You can stick it right up yours
Where the sun ain't shining, up yours
With your social climbing, up yours
You can sit and spin with it, up yours
Sit down and rotate, up yours
Release the floodgates, up yours
Screw yourself and shove it right up yours
Directly up yours

Compositor: John Bush & Joey Vera

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